


Not Actually Dead

by fangirlingovermishacollins



Series: Not Actually Dead [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Confessions, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, Hospital, Inspired by another fanfic, M/M, Making Out, Not from ao3 tho, Post-Season/Series 12, Post-Season/Series Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-18 18:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11880417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlingovermishacollins/pseuds/fangirlingovermishacollins
Summary: Dean thinks Castiel is dead. But he doesn't know the truth-- that he's alive, even after Lucifer stabbed him.





	Not Actually Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by We'll Meet Again, which is just as sad as Twist and Shout. Hope you enjoy! Also, I know it's a few days late, but: Happy Birthday, Misha Collins!!!

It was impossible to process. It just couldn't be true, there was no way. Castiel wasn't dead. He'd lived through so much, died so many times, and he had always miraculously come back. But looking at Cas's body, lifeless on the ground, it all became real. The blood soaking through his white shirt, the black outline of wings that looked like they'd disappear in thin air but were stained into the ground- it was true. He was dead, and Dean hadn't even been able to fully forgive him. 

He was somewhere else, feeling lost in his own head. He drove the Impala with just enough focus on the road to not get into an accident. He stopped at red, drove at green, but that was the extent of what he was able to do. Sam was concerned, it showed in his eyes and face. He had always been readable. And he was quiet, wanting to ask and listen to Dean admit how he was really feeling, but he knew his brother needed time. 

At home, in his room, Dean sat on his bed with a six pack of beer. It sat on the bed next to him, close to falling off the edge, but Dean couldn't care less. All he cared about was the fact that he had lost two of the people he loved. It was different with Mary though. She was strong, and as far as Dean was concerned, still alive... for now. Cas was dead. At this rate, Dean would have welcomed Crowley. He may have been a demon and a dick, but with him there, maybe Dean would feel like not everything was lost. Sam was all he had left.

"Damn Lucifer..." Dean said to himself, draining at least 3/4 of the first bottle before the events of the night and past few days caught up with him. Tears sprung to his eyes. He had never felt more hopeless. Vision blurry, he finished off the beer before, in a fit of anger and frustration and maybe a little depression, throwing it against the wall. The sound of glass shattering was actually satisfying.

He nearly yanked the cap off the second bottle, breathing heavily, this time taking smaller sips. But it did nothing to calm him. "Coulda done something, you know. But you just stood there, watching as Satan drew a blade through Cas's chest. It's your fault. You know it is." The things he said to himself just upset him more. 

Not even caring whether or not the bottle was still holding beer, Dean made a fist around it. Cracks appeared on the glass. Beer droplets started to break out, landing on his fingers. Again, Dean didn't care.

His hand was bleeding just a bit from where the glass had cut him. One piece had nearly broken off his skin, mixing blood with beer as the two liquids spilled to the floor. The bottle shattered against a wall again, beer trailing down the wall.

During his beer-bottle throwing fit, a shard of glass managed to cut Dean's cheek, making a scar almost going to his eye. He didn't remember much after that, passing out on top of his bed.

_"Dean, are you alright?" a familiar voice asked, peering over him and looking right into his eyes. "You're bleeding heavily. Let me assist in healing you." Opening his eyes once again, Dean saw Cas, eyes full off worry and fear for the hunter's safety._

_"Cas?" was all he could say, and not even caring that blood was running down his hand and face, Dean wrapped his arms around the angel's neck. "What... how the hell are you here?"_

_"Shh, it's okay.... I'm here now. I won't leave you again. Anything you want, I'll give you."_

_"I want...." Dean said, more awake than before, "just you, Cas, please. Stay here, I just need you, you feathery asshole."_

_"Of course." And Cas just held Dean, whispering to him in varying languages._

"Dean!" The hunter woke up to two large hands shaking him. "Dean, what happened?" 

"Sammy?" Dean asked, looking around. "Where the hell am I anyway?"

"I had to clean the glass, blood, and beer from your room, so...." Sam shrugged. "You're in one of the other bedrooms. Dean, you were passed out and bleeding. Seriously, what did you do?"

"It was just too much," Dean admitted, voice breaking as more tears filled his eyes. "I just broke a bottle, you know? And I couldn't stop." He shook his head at himself, sighing hopelessly. "I couldn't stop, even when I cut myself, damnit, and it just went too far."

"Just relax, okay? I wrapped your hand and stopped the bleeding on your head. You'll have a scar, though, but I bet that won't bother you."

"Thanks, Sammy." Dean laid back on the bed he was on, wiping a tear from his cheek. "It was too much, wasn't it? I mean, you saw what I did. I probably overreacted."

"I actually expected something like that from you, Dean." Sam gave a small, reassuring smile. "Just not bleeding."

"Shut up, bitch."

"Jerk." The brothers smiled at each other for a second. Sam paused. "Is your phone on, by the way?"

"No. I turned it off, why?"

"Nothing, it's just.... someone's phone's been ringing a lot. Mostly when you were passed out." Sam shrugged. "It's not Mom's extras, and not mine either."

"One of Dad's?" Dean sat up, confused.

"They're still in the Impala, remember? And unless you moved them, they've always been there." 

Dean suddenly looked in the direction of his pocket. "I maybe took Cas's phone before we left, Sammy. It's still on, unless it died or something."

"You going to answer it then?" Sam wasn't upset about the fact that Dean had taken Cas's phone from his dead body, instead he looked like he understood.

"Maybe later, okay?" Sam didn't push it any farther, just stood near his brother, silent.

~~

No matter how many times Cas called his, Sam's or Dean's phones, nobody picked up.

He would have flown to the bunker, but his grace was still low. He could already hear Dean going, "Your angel mojo not working yet?" and smiling that almost-smirk smile when he said it. The mental image playing out in his mind hurt.

He had found himself in a hospital bed, somewhere in Kansas. After realizing how close he potentially was to the bunker, Cas had tried to leave, but apparently he still had to be taken care of. He could still remember struggling to break free of the doctor's and nurses' grip, eventually being given a shot of some kind of sleeping drug. It only worked because of his low grace.

Doctors came in from time to time, checking up on him. Nobody said anything, but he knew they were still wary of him, thinking he would try to escape again.

"He's strong," a doctor had said outside of his room. "I doubt he'll be restrained for much longer."

"He should know better now," another doctor had answered. "Besides, where does he expect to go anyway?"

"I have no idea. Let's just keep an eye on him, maybe we'll be lucky and he'll be released early."

It was almost comforting, knowing the sooner doctors wanted him gone, the sooner he could find the bunker. 

Deciding to give it one more go, Cas picked up the phone next to his bed. He punched in his own phone number, waiting anxiously for any kind of response.

~~

Dean woke this time to a phone ringing, again. After the first few times since Sam had pointed it out, he had considered answering just to stop the noise. Now, though, he decided to just pick up. Maybe he could actually go out to a bar or diner to eat and drink later, if Sam would go.

"Hello, what the hell do you want?" he asked, finally holding Cas's phone up to his ear. There was a pause, then a familiar voice on the other end.

"Hello, Dean."

~~

At last, Cas had finally gotten an answer. He had only considered calling his phone because he had realized it was gone when he woke up, alive again. He had seen a television show about it once-- a person calls their own phone when they found that it was missing. _Answer, please,_ he thought to himself. _Someone, pick up._

"Hello, what the hell do you want?" Dean's voice asked. He sounded like he had just woken up. Cas's heart suddenly sped up, hearing that voice for the first time since his resurrection. Cas imagined the hunter laying on a bed, most likely his own in the bunker or maybe at a motel. His hair was probably messy, the way the angel secretly liked, and he was probably wearing a flannel shirt that fit him in just the right way. 

"Hello, Dean." Those two words seemed to have.... broken Dean. The hunter was still on the line, seeing as how the call was still going. "Dean? Are you alright?" Cas asked, worry beginning to show through his voice. "Are you still nearby? Should I call back?"

"No, no, hell no, it's just.... man, you were dead. Castiel died, and if you're an impersonator or some bullshit like that, the joke isn't funny. So who are you?"

"It's honestly me, Dean, I promise you. I assume I was brought back, most likely by my father. The last thing I recall is dying at the hands of Lucifer."

"But where are you, Cas? I've been-" Dean broke off for a moment, the sound of him choking back what sounded like a sob breaking the angel's heart. "I've been going crazy, okay? I drank and shattered bottles and shit, and passed out. This didn't have to happen if you'd used your angel mojo to zap over here."

"I'm weak." Cas sighed. "I have extremely low grace. I woke in a hospital in Kansas. I assumed I could escape and find the bunker," Cas paused, "and you. I fought during my attempts to do so, and was held back."

Was it just his imagination, or did Dean gasp a little when Cas admitted he wanted to find him?

"Damn. You can't even escape a hospital? Angel mojo on the fritz again?" 

Cas nodded before remembering Dean couldn't see him. "Yes. I truly am sorry, Dean, but I honestly could not get to you. I tried calling this phone many times, to explain."

~~

Dean was wide awake now, Cas's words repeating in his ears. "Damn it," he admitted, "I ignored every time, Cas. I had no idea it was you, and I just want to say so much right now, but I really want to see you, okay? Which hospital are you at? I'll be right there, I swear."

"I'll find a way to send you the adress."

"Yeah, okay. And Cas?" Dean asked, almost hanging up but changing his mind at the last minute. "Just be safe, and we'll be right there." 

~~

They came bursting through the door to Cas's hospital room. Well, actually Dean did, and Sam peered in before walking inside. Cas had no idea how much he had wanted to see them until he actually did-- it made him feel so much better, even though he had never felt this much like a human before.

Dean took the seat closest to the angel, his hand close to Cas's at first, until he moved it back. What shocked Cas was that he missed having that hand so close. Upon closer look, Dean looked terrible. His cheek held the beginnings of a scar, which led up his face. One hand was wrapped tightly in a bandage of some sort. The look in his eyes said that the hunter had been stressed and crying recently. He smelled like beer. "You don't look too good either, Dean. Are you absolutely sure you're alright?"

"Who the hell gives a damn, Cas? At least freaking Lucifer didn't kill me. You should be the guy I worry about, okay? I'm fine." Then he moved his hand again, putting it closer to Cas's. "I wanted to see you alive so damn much," he admitted. "Thank fuck I answered your call."

"It was not an easy task for me either. All I could think about was seeing you again." And even though Cas looked at both Dean and Sam, the hunter got the feeling he was talking to him more than Sam. 

"I won't survive, you know, if you go missing again," Dean commented in an attempt to lighten the mood in the room. "I'll worry myself to death."

"That won't happen if I can help it." Somehow, Cas's hand had covered Dean's, and it felt more intimate than so many of their 'friendly' interactions. Cas tried not to notice how Dean's pupils had slightly widened as he stared at their hands and then back up at him. 

"Good," and Dean still didn't move his hand. In fact, he seemed to get slightly closer to the angel instead. "Good," he repeated, trying to get back into his usual demeanor and attitude. His eyes were still that way, though.

Sam coughed, awkwardly, and it shook both of them out of what felt like a trance. "I'll be out there," he said, pointing at the hallway. As soon as they were left alone, Dean leaned close towards Cas again. 

"What are we doing?" Cas asked, suddenly aware of the cold feeling on his hand now that it wasn't close to Dean's anymore. "This both looks and feels like we are more than friends." _Which I would like very much,_ Cas added in his head. For years, he had felt that way.

"Just...." Dean said, "d'you mind just being quiet?" So they sat there, staring at one another until they were so close their foreheads touched. Still not sure of what he was doing, Dean slightly tilted his head, leaning in to close the final distance between them.

It was sweet, the way Cas's lips pressed against his own. Without realizing it, Dean had gently held onto the back of Cas's head, gently stroking the dark hair there. It was softer than he had anticipated, and the slow, light strokes just made Cas even more pliant, melting right there in Dean's arms. They only broke the kiss to catch their breaths, Cas smiling dreamily.

"I've been waiting for you to do that," Cas admitted. His hand was cupping Dean's cheek. Even though it should have hurt his scar, the touch was light and the only thing the hunter felt was the feather-light feeling of Cas touching him.

"I love you," Cas spoke up, voice barely a whisper. "I love you, Dean Winchester." Then he leaned in again, connecting their lips in a loving but hesitant manner. 

"I know," Dean said, whispering as well. "And I love you, too, Castiel, so damn much it hurts sometimes." Cas couldn't resist smiling at the use of his full name, and Dean completely brightened. It looked like he hadn't gone through anything he actually had recently.

"Kiss me again, please. I love you, Dean, I love you." The largest and brightest smile settled on the hunter's face, and he complied, kissing so gently and slowly like they had all the time in the world.

"Cas, if I could, I would be on top of you right now, pulling that hospital gown right off you and kissing every inch of skin I could find until you were breathless and begging for me to do more."

Cas's breathing sped up. He could see it so perfectly in his head.

"I would prefer if you did that." Cas found it impossible to look away from Dean's green eyes. "I want you every way I can have you."

"Just let me kiss you for now, okay? I guarantee you'll love it." And Dean leaned in to kiss him, more passionately than before. Cas could feel the emotion and desire behind the kiss as he grabbed two fistfuls of the hunter's shirt. With very little force, Dean coaxed open Cas's mouth, letting his tongue slide in. Cas let out a little moan at the feeling and suddenly close wasn't enough. Without really thinking, his hands slid under the T-shirt Dean was wearing, his fingers running over the muscle under his hands. 

"I could do this forever," Dean admitted. "I'll get you out of here, okay? Then, we'll go home and finish what we started." Smirking, Dean stood up. "Be right back, angel. I'm nowhere close to done with you." The look Cas saw on his hunter's face sent a shiver through his body. 

He may have been dead, but now Cas felt more alive than ever.


End file.
